


Salt, Grease, & a Shovel

by ActiveAggression



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Scott, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActiveAggression/pseuds/ActiveAggression
Summary: “Oh fuck,” Isaac swears, glancing over his shoulder and back to Liam. “He thinks we’re - me and you - we - he thinks we’re -”“Fucking,” Liam deadpans, “yeah.”“That’s disgusting.”
Relationships: Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Liam Dunbar/Brett Talbot
Comments: 9
Kudos: 193





	Salt, Grease, & a Shovel

**Author's Note:**

> I don't care if it's been five years. I am pushing the ship to sail. Or rather I have a bunch of old teen wolf fics that I never finished and am now, finally, finishing them and gifting them upon you. Ur welcome. 
> 
> Uh, relevant points.  
> \- Underage tag purely because there's a lot of sex talk concerning Liam.  
> \- I have genuinely no clue how to tag Liam's personality in this so if you can figure it out, please tell me.  
> \- Alternate universe tag because I love Scisaac and love Liam and refuse to have them apart. Really I just take all my favourite things about teen wolf and mash them together.  
> \- Yes, this fic does contain some stuff from one of my other fics, Direct Correlation, but is in no way related. You do not have to read that one to read this one. But I recommend you do anyway cause I really love it. 
> 
> Enjoy

“How is he so oblivious?” Isaac groans, glaring at Scott from across the cafeteria. 

Boyd gives him a look - one that Isaac can translate into words before Boyd even has to say them. Boyd says them anyway, “he’s Scott.” 

“That shouldn’t be an excuse,” he groans. 

“But it is,” Erica shrugs. She’s not even really paying attention, instead slowly pulling her apple apart. The juice runs down her fingers and drips to the table in a sticky puddle but Isaac theorises she doesn’t care half as much about that as she does about the table of boys across from them that are staring at her. They look away whenever Boyd moves, furtive and guilty, but the moment Boyd’s still they stare again. It’d be amusing if his life wasn’t in such shambles. 

“I’ve been flirting though. Hell, I even asked him out to dinner last week.” 

“Perhaps he wouldn’t take it so platonically if you didn’t live with him and have dinner with him _every_ night,” Erica drawls, which makes sense and he hates her for that. “You could try walking around the house naked.” 

“What about his mum?” Isaac splutters. 

“I’m certain she’d appreciate it.” 

Erica’s grinning and Boyd’s shaking his head, but he isn’t mouthing ‘no’ like Isaac wished he would be. Then again, maybe Boyd just isn’t the type of person to mouth things. 

“You could talk to Stiles,” Erica finally relents, sighing. “If anyone would know what Scott likes, it’d be him.” 

Isaac snorts. “I don’t think he knows how to attract anything.” 

“If that were true I think he’d have a little less puppy dog following him around,” Erica smirks, looking over his shoulder. 

Isaac turns, not sure what ‘puppy dog’ entails. Stiles is chatting like he does, with arm gestures and a lot of facial expressions. Chasing down his every word is Liam, who looks so desperate Isaac can’t help but laugh. 

“Don’t laugh,” Erica tells him, “that’s exactly what you look like with Scott.” 

* * *

Isaac _tries_. He does. Really. But Scott is so unbelievably thick sometimes. It's like someone took half his brain capacity and replaced it with relentless determination and impulsiveness. 

Isaac flirts. He touches Scott a lot, talks about how good Scott looks. He practically sits in Scott's lap as they watch Planet Earth 2, leans his head against Scott's shoulder, noses at his t-shirt. He bites his lip red. He pets through Scott's hair. He fucking _bats his eyes -_ which he regrets, regretted before it had become obvious Scott hadn't noticed. 

In a moment of desperation, he considers Erica's suggestion. He stands there, clutching his towel around his waist, a mere meter from the bathroom door. He could - he could - oh hell, he is _not_ going to walk around naked. He is not _that_ desperate. 

* * *

Not _that_ desperate, but certainly still desperate. Pathetically desperate. It's been a week. A whole week. Isaac has been flirting non-stop and his lack of progress is disheartening, to say the least. Nevertheless, Isaac’s watching Scott, leant up against someone’s locker, when Malia runs into him. She’s grinning and wild as usual and he has no trouble believing it wasn’t a mistake at all. 

“Liam’s wearing someone else’s clothes,” she announces, far too loudly. 

“Stiles’?” Isaac asks before he can stop himself. 

Malia looks confused and shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t smell like him.” 

“Who then?” 

“I’m not sure,” Malia admits, “but I think it’s a werewolf.” 

“One of the pack?” 

“No. Someone else.” 

Isaac feels the start of panic burning inside him, “who? They could be dangerous. Do you think he’s joined another pack?” 

Malia gives him a withering look, “yeah, dangerous is sure the impression I got.” 

“What?” 

“Just smell him. Hell, look at him. Liam, that is. You’ll see.” 

So Isaac does. He takes one last long look at Scott and tracks down Liam who is being so uncooperative that Isaac has to corner him against some lockers. 

“That’s not yours,” he says, nodding down at the hoodie. 

“Been talking to Malia?” Liam asks deadpan. He seems oddly happy and… and sex, Isaac decides; he seems like he’s been having sex. 

“You’re fucking someone else,” Isaac says, far too loudly and hears a squeak of shoes as whoever was behind him spins around and walks back down the hall. 

“Else?” Liam asks, scrunching up his nose as he tries to shove Isaac out of the way. Isaac shoves harder. 

“Yeah. Else. Cause it’s definitely not Stiles.” 

Liam stills at that. “I don’t know - umm…” 

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. You’ve been following him around like a puppy,” Isaac accuses and Liam squirms. 

“I follow any hot boy around like a puppy,” Liam snaps, “I’m fifteen, I’m horny. I would follow you around too if you and Scott weren’t so… whatever it is you are.” 

Isaac steps away, Liam falling from where Isaac had been holding him against the wall, “me and Scott aren’t… _are you serious!?_ ” 

Liam glares up at him, hunched over his fairly fucking obvious erection, “We just went through this. I’m fifteen. And you and Scott must have something going on.” 

“We don’t.” 

“Then why did he look so upset when he came around the corner?” 

“Corner?” Isaac asks. 

“Yeah. That corner.” 

Isaac turns, remembers the squeak of shoes and realises what it must have looked like from behind… and sounded like. _You’re fucking someone else. Christ._

“Oh fuck,” Isaac swears, glancing over his shoulder and back to Liam. “He thinks we’re - me and you - we - he thinks we’re -”

“Fucking,” Liam deadpans, “yeah.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Hey,” Liam says, mock-offended. “I’m hot. You’d be lucky to have me.”

“You’re fifteen,” Isaac says, “so it’s gross.”

“You thought me and Stiles were fucking,” Liam counters. 

“No, I didn’t,” Isaac corrects, “I just didn’t realise what a horny little slut you are. And you and Stiles would still have been gro- _are you fucking serious, Liam? What the fuck?”_

“I - am - fif - teen,” Liam says shamelessly like he isn’t palming his hard dick in the middle of a school corridor. Like he isn’t doing it right in front of Isaac. “And you called me a slut, dude, so this one’s on you.”

“Stop that, holy fuck,” Isaac sputters. 

Liam rolls his eyes but does take his hand away from his crotch. The stark outline is, honestly, not much better. “You’re an idiot,” he says, with a lot of snark and absolutely no respect. “You’re really gonna stand here and police my dick contact instead of going after Scott? He thinks we’re fucking. Like, you should definitely be sorting that out. Especially if you want to get all up on him.”

“Please stop talking.”

“Seriously, what are you even still doing here.”

“Yeah,” Isaac says, feeling a little hysterical. “Yeah, okay. I’m going.” 

“Good,” Liam says, then raises his eyebrows when Isaac doesn’t move. “It’s really not that scary.”

Isaac takes a deep breath in. “What would you know?” he snaps. 

“Literally the moment you leave I’m sending dick pics to a guy,” Liam deadpans. 

“You - you - what the fuck Liam, you really shouldn’t do that. That’s-”

“Irresponsible? Yeah thanks, I know, _dad._ God _,_ you sound exactly like Brett. How about you go sort out your relationship issues, and then you can come lecture me on mine?”

“I really don’t like you,” Isaac says, “but I’m going.”

“Go get your man,” Liam calls after him with absolutely no enthusiasm at all. 

* * *

It’s easy enough to find Scott. Isaac is ridiculously well attuned to his scent and follows it outside to where Scott’s sitting under the bleachers, shoulders hunched, knees drawn up. 

“The bleachers,” Isaac says as he manoeuvres under them. “Interesting choice. I can smell like thirteen different puddles of cum under here.”

Scott doesn’t laugh or look up. “Any of it yours,” he says dully, not really a question. “Or Liams?” 

Isaac cringes, can’t stop himself. “You know it’s not.”

“Do I?”

“Well,” Isaac says, and really he needs to learn to filter himself a little better because he knows, “I’m pretty sure you’d be able to smell it,” probably isn’t what Scott wants to hear right now. 

Scott stands abruptly, almost brains himself on the bottom of the bleachers. “You and Liam,” he says angrily. “Liam’s only sixteen. I just-”

“Fifteen,” Isaac corrects.

“What?”

“Liam’s fifteen. But - ah - that’s not really important.”

Scott whirls on him, snarling. “That’s not _important?_ That is-”

“I’m not fucking him,” Isaac interrupts quickly. “So uh, no. Not really important. What you saw was… not what it looked like. I think he’s got a boyfriend? Not that I would be interested if he didn’t. But… yeah.”

“ _You’re fucking someone else,”_ Scott repeats, raising his eyebrows. “That’s what you said to him. You seriously think I’m dumb enough to believe-”

“No,” Isaac interrupts again. “No. You’re not dumb. And I’m not fucking him. That’s - that’s just fucking gross. No. I just thought he was in love with Stiles or something, so the boyfriend or whatever was a surprise.” 

“Stiles?” Scott asks, brow furrowed in confusion “why would you think that he likes Stiles?”

“Are you serious? Have you seen them? Liam like - hangs off every word Stiles says.”

Scott shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t. I would’ve noticed that. I would’ve-”

Isaac can’t stop himself. The words escape him without permission, even as he desperately tries to push them back down. “You would’ve noticed!? What? I’ve been in love with you for half a year and you’ve never noticed _that.”_

There’s a pause. A long pause. Scott’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open. It’s probably only half a minute that they stare at each other but it feels much longer. His brain rifles through what seems to be thousands of thoughts; _oh god oh fuck what have I done. Why would I say that? He’s gonna hate me. He’s for sure gonna hate me. He’s gonna kick me out. I’m gonna be homeless. I can’t believe I’ve done this to myself. What the fuck. What the fuck was I thinking? Was I thinking? Maybe I can play it off. Maybe - like fuck can I play it off. I told him I was in love with him. There’s not that much to misconstrue there. Oh fuck. Oh hell._

“Oh,” Scott says finally, cutting through his wild brain. “You’re in love with me? I didn’t - um - I didn’t know. You hid it really well.”

Isaac lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Hid it? I didn’t hide it at all. I did everything except confess. I flirted. I touched you constantly. I _asked you out_ to dinner two weeks ago. I mean-”

“That - we have dinner together every night? We live together.”

“That is entirely beside the point. I - fucking hell Scott - I’m in love with you. Please could you just acknowledge that or something? Just like… put me out of my misery.”

“I think I like you too,” Scott says, with a casual shrug, like he’s not throwing Isaac’s entire world off-balance. “I’m not sure if I love you or anything, but I’m definitely… attracted. It’s been driving me crazy honestly, living with you and dealing with having an entire sexuality crisis over you while you’re there. I’ve had a bit of trouble coming to terms with it since it feels like every two weeks we get attacked and when we’re not I still don’t have any time to myself. But I - yeah - I think I like you.”

“You - you do?”

“Yeah,” Scott says, “maybe we can actually go on a date sometime?” 

Isaac stares. This… actually kind of makes sense honestly. Everything with Scott is just an uphill battle, but when you actually get to the top it’s just easy. Scott makes everything so easy. Like it’s simple. Like Isaac hasn’t been unsuccessfully pining over him for months. 

It’s honestly a little insulting. 

“Just like that?” he asks, “Just - I’ve been in love with you for months, and you’re really just… what the hell.”

Scott nods, slowly, looking confused. “I - sorry, did you not want that? I kind of assumed you would. But we can also not date? If you - if you don’t want to?”

“No no.” Isaac says quickly, “No. I want that. I - yes, we should date. Go on a date. Yeah. Just, fuck, am I dreaming? Nevermind. That was a weird thing to say.”

Scott’s starting to look amused. “So that’s a yes?”

“Yes, that’s a yes. Please take me out to dinner or… whatever.”

Scott grins, a kind of devious one that looks entirely out of place on his face. “I have something in mind actually.”

* * *

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on,” Isaac says happily, eyes fixed out the front windshield, binoculars in hand. 

“Yeah?” Scott says. He looks happy too, smiling, dimples deep with the shadowy light in the car. 

“It’s kind of perfect,” Isaac affirms, and it really is. Just them, together, a bucket of fried chicken and overly salty chips nestled between them on the centre console, just hanging out and spying on Liam’s front lawn. Scott held his hand briefly not ten minutes ago, smeared chicken grease and salt crystals over the back and licked it off when he noticed. Isaac swears he almost died, his heartbeat racing so fast, Scott had genuinely commented on it. 

He’d laughed in the face of Isaac’s muttered, “it’s your fault. You’re the one _licking me,”_ and kissed him. Salty, greasy, Scott’s hands tangled in Isaac’s hair, perfect. 

Isaac hadn’t even minded when Scott had pulled away, licked his lips and, with a grin, whispered, “sorry. You’re distracting. You’re gonna ruin this whole mission.”

Isaac, still leant into Scott’s space, had grinned back. “I am?”

“Your mouth definitely is.” Another kiss. “Whole mission ruined.” Kiss. “Your fault.” Long kiss. 

Isaac had been the one to pull away, catching movement in his periphery. “Look look,” he’d said, whipping his head around to squint into the dark, Scott’s mouth dragging wetly over his cheek. “Is that him?”

It hadn’t been, but it did successfully return their focus to the mission at hand. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Scott says quietly, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Like I’d miss this,” Isaac responds, and he’s been trying really hard to scan Liam’s yard rather than look at Scott because he’s pretty sure looking at Scott right now will definitely ruin their mission. He wants to though. He almost does, except he notices a shadowy figure lurking near the bushes at the edge of Liam’s yard and jolts upright, elbowing Scott hard in the side. 

“Is it him?”

Scott leans in beside him, squints into the darkness. “Oh my god,” he says quickly, excited, “it’s him. It’s him. Man, I sound like a teenage girl right now.” 

Isaac laughs and they both watch as Brett starts sneaking further towards the house. 

“Okay. You grab the shovel. I’ve got the condoms and lube,” he mutters, reaching to open the passenger seat door. 

“You - you do?”

“Grab the shovel. Come on. Before he gets away.” 

Brett does not get away, nor does he get into Liam’s pants like he was probably expecting. They intercept him in the dark, Scott holding a shovel and a serious fatherly expression, Isaac clutching handfuls of condoms and a teary face. 

“My son,” he wails and throws a couple of the condoms for effect. “You’ve deflowered him. How could you, you heathen.” 

Brett stares, flinching slightly as a condom packet hits him square in the nose. “What?” 

Scott steps forward, making a show of hefting the shovel over his shoulder like it doesn’t weigh absolutely nothing to him. “Boy,” he starts, a heavy Southern drawl laced into his words, “you best have a damn good reason why I shouldn’t bury you right here and now.”

“You -” Brett tries again, “what?”

Isaac wails harder, thrusting small packets of lube in Brett’s direction. “Just please _please_ use protection. Our little boy is too young to be pregnant. He’s too innocent.”

“And you don’t look the type who’d marry him if that happened,” Scott drawls, fake chewing in long drawn out rotations. “He’d be a single father out there in the big bad world. You have to take responsibility.”

“Are - are you guys giving me the shovel talk? Seriously.”

Isaac sobs and quickly squirts eye drops into his eyes, lets the liquid run down his face. “He’s our little boy. Our precious little man. You may have robbed him of his virginity, but surely you can’t rob him of his life.”

Light spills onto the yard as Liam’s curtains swish open and he leans out his window, staring at them all in disbelief. “Are - are you fucking kidding me. What the fuck?” He points at Isaac, nearly topples out the window as he does. “I helped you with Scott. This is betrayal.”

Isaac falls to his knees, still sobbing. “My little boy’s growing up so fast.”

“Our little boy,” Scott agrees, Southern accent getting a little lost. 

“Oh my god, fuck off,” Liam says. 

“You said,” Isaac starts, ditching his crying mother facade, “that once I sorted out my stuff with Scott, I could meddle with your relationship. I have permission to do this.” He starts crying again, weeping against Scott’s knee. “He’s sending dirty photographs. I just don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“We certainly know what shouldn’t have gotten into him without protection,” Scott adds and procures a long piece of hay from nowhere to start chewing on. 

“Fucking hell,” Liam groans. “We haven’t even done that. Please stop.” He’s looking a little pink now, flushed and embarrassed. Mission success. 

Isaac, still sobbing, starts stuffing condoms into Brett’s pockets. “Don’t hurt our little man,” he says dramatically. 

Brett’s eyes flick to Scott and then back to Isaac and hold his gaze. “I won't,” he says seriously. 

Liam makes a noise like he’s dying and disappears through the window. His voice, a couple of octaves higher, floats out behind him. “Stop talking to them, oh my god. And will you two stop throwing condoms all over the lawn? My parents are getting back in two days. Two. Just fucking stop.”

“Aw,” Isaac coos, patting Brett’s cheek, “you’re a good one. I can just tell. Good for our son. I give you permission to touch his dick.” 

Another wordless noise of embarrassment comes from the floor above. 

“But not with your mouth,” Scott adds, starting to sound like a tv cop, “as that’s sodomy and sodomy is a sin.” 

“Fuck - off.”

* * *

Isaac can’t stop his grin as they climb back into the car. “Best date ever,” he laughs, dropping handfuls of condoms and lube to the floor of the jeep. 

Scott’s laughing too. “Yeah,” he says, breathlessly, smiling. His eyes flit along Isaac’s face. “Yeah. Fuck, I like you. So much. I am so bi. Wow. I really don’t want this to end.” 

“This?”

“This date.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this Scott,” Isaac says, leaning across the centre console. “But we kind of live together.” The kiss Scott presses against his lips is really more smile than kiss but it still leaves him breathless. “This never has to end.” 


End file.
